:/ So what DOES a mum’s breast milk taste like?

© Andrew (For some reason the post has repeated itself in the Reader?)

:/ If little else my post themes are out of the ordinary 😀 and I’m aware they may not be everyone’s ‘cup of tea’, but I enjoy writing them and some people enjoy reading them so all’s good and I have so much respect for the fair sex!. ❀

TRUTHFULLY I HAVE ALWAYS WONDERED WHAT MOTHER’S MILK ACTUALLY TASTES LIKE?

dfa88e4dfad578e1_bmilk-main.xxxlarge_2xHere’s a question you’ll have asked your mum at some point in your life, “was I breastfed as a baby?” Well I only ever asked my mother once and she replied “NO NEVER!!” …………..Fair enough 😀

Which makes me wonder if being bottle fed formula milk is the reason I have a womanly breast fixation, then again ALL men have a weakness for those milky warm bundles of fun! But being serious for a sec’ I follow a lovely lady on YouTube who’s extremely unhappy men sexualise breasts, forgetting their sole purpose in life is lactating milk to keep babies alive and grow up healthy………………… 😀 and you wonder why I’m so darn confused!

Braless 2I’ve a breastfeeding story for you, now bare in mind last time I wrote a post titled breastfeeding I got myself into all sorts of trouble, in-fact I deleted the post because I upset a lady from NY USA called Cara, so then I posted an apology only to be chastised yet again by a lady name of Paola from West Germany, women you just can’t win! 🙂

But being serious for a second Paola was quite correct a writer should never apologise for the ‘fruits of his labour’, if readers aren’t impressed with my work then please tell me because I enjoy feedback.

One of the many female bloggers I Follow writes by the name of ‘Skinny and Single’ a blogger from Canada and fantastic she is to, a lady on my wavelength irreverent opinionated and hugely amusing. Well recently she wrote a very entertaining breastfeeding themed post to which I commented below, (I’m aware quoting your own reply is a little arrogant and self absorbed but there you are my blog and all that 😛 )

‘A good few years ago my sister-in-law ‘plonked’ her youngest in my lap, gave me a bottle of her mummy milk and said “feed B. while I have a shower”, the point of my story is I wanted to drop a little on my hand and taste BUT through sheer will power alone I stopped myself, the temptation was near unbearable! However I didn’t ;( trouble is ever since that evening I’ve wondered what breast milk tastes of? (True story I once wrote a blog post but later deleted)’

What I really wanted to say was “let the baby feed himself and I’ll take a shower with you”………………… ONLY FRIGGING JOKING!!!

I’m not quite sure why I need to qualify my comment with ‘true story’, very strange because I’m ALWAYS honest and yes tis true, as I looked down at his feeding bottle (he’s 9 now) to say I was curious and intrigued is an understatement if ever there was one, ‘what does this creamy liquid taste of?’ I thought to myself, and looking back all these years I regret not having ‘dabbed’ a drop on my skin and tasted, but she’d have been disgusted and no I wouldn’t have……….I’m a nice guy ;)…… and as my sister-in-law took her well earned rest from motherhood I wonder if she asked herself ‘would Andrew dare?’……..we’ll both never know will we!

shows two 25ml samples of human breastmilk foremilk on the left and hindmilk on the right.pngOn reflection my sis-in-law’s milk LOOKED creamy, most definitely hindmilk.

Two points to finish this meandering post with. Did you know if a guy was so inclined he could purchase human breast milk from the internet, though medical doctors point out drinking is fraught with health and infection implications, and btw I haven’t or never intend to purchase on-line, apparently men consider human milk aids strength and agility? So there you are ladies, there’s a good little earner for you, I’m not sure as to the pricing per jar but you could express and express and express and make yourselves a few dollars!

And did you know (I’m great in pub quizzes) two thousand years ago in ancient Rome, Emperors would drink young girl’s breast milk because they hoped it made them live longer.

Yes-Drinking-Breast-Milk-Is-Good-For-Adults-Too.png
The very funny Jim Carrey

Oh yes I said two points before I leave you tonight!

I’m searching for a reason which now escapes me, many years ago whilst surfing the internet I happened across a website, American well it would be wouldn’t it haha, I stumbled across this website with a photo of a very pretty young lady sitting in a rocking chair which caught my eye, and believe it or not she advertised her boob services for men with a taste for women’s breast milk!

:/ “nowt as strange as folk” as my Grandpa would say.

Yep as sure as I’m sitting here tonight tapping on my laptop, Gods honest truth a guy could contact her through email, then I guess herself or her partner obviously vetted applicants for sanity and weirdness, possibly have the local sheriff run a prison record check and then the ‘customer’ could visit her home, and for an undisclosed fee though sure as ‘eggs is eggs’ her milk will cost you a few quid, he could suckle warm delicious rejuvenating mother’s milk straight from her nipple…………………..but here’s a thing…………..what does it taste like? Similar to cow’s milk? I am so curious.

Bingo!! I’ve just this second remembered something my sister-in-law told me, “Andrew………..when I eat Indian curry takeaways baby B. skin turns a light yellow colour”………wow I pulled that deep from within my consciousness!

HOWEVER the breastfeeding lady in question had strict rules, or should I say rule singular, the guy paying for her milk services wasn’t allowed to touch a boob under any circumstances, which seems fair, there’s a fine line between a service and a sexual favour.

So again lady readers if you’re looking for a money-making opportunity, which let’s face it WILL be very profitable, get yourselves a website upload Photographs of yourself seated in a rocking chair, recline back and see what happens…….. you never know 😉 I may even apply!!

Here’s another one of my silly anecdotes for you,

Several years ago I happened to overhear two young ladies in conversation when one girl says to her friend, “boys ask to feel your tits but when you let them they don’t know what to do with them!” que fits of giggles.

Andrew 🙂

 

Is admitting my regret at not tasting a little creepy? My inquisitiveness unhealthy? Or does admitting that if I had my time over again licking that milky drip off my skin belie a calamitous flaw in my moral character? Hmm there’s a thought :/ and as my sister-in-law took her well earned rest from motherhood I wonder if she asked herself ‘would he dare?’……..we’ll both never know will we!

Two points to finish this meandering post with. Did you know if a guy was so inclined he could purchase human breast milk from the internet, though medical doctors point out drinking is fraught with health and infection implications, and btw I haven’t or never intend to purchase on-line, apparently men consider human milk aids strength and agility? So there you are ladies, there’s a good little earner for you, I’m not sure as to the pricing per jar but you could express and express and express and make yourselves a few dollars!

And did you know (I’m great in pub quizzes) two thousand years ago in ancient Rome, Emperors would drink young girl’s breast milk because they hoped it made them live longer.

Yes-Drinking-Breast-Milk-Is-Good-For-Adults-Too.png
The very funny Jim Carrey

Oh yes I said two points before I leave you tonight!

I’m searching for a reason which now escapes me, many years ago whilst surfing the internet I happened across a website, American well it would be wouldn’t it haha, I stumbled across this website with a photo of a very pretty young sitting in a rocking chair which caught my eye, and believe it or not she advertised her boob services for men with a taste for women’s breast milk!

:/ “nowt as strange as folk” as my Grandpa would say.

Yep as sure as I’m sitting here tonight tapping on my laptop, Gods honest truth a guy could contact her through email, then I guess herself or her partner obviously vetted applicants for sanity and weirdness, possibly have the local sheriff run a prison record check and then the ‘customer’ could visit her home, and for an undisclosed fee though sure as ‘eggs is eggs’ her milk will cost you a few quid, he could suckle warm delicious rejuvenating mother’s milk straight from her nipple…………………..but here’s a thing…………..what does milk taste like? Similar to cows milk? I am so curious.

Bingo!! I’ve just this second remembered something my sister-in-law told me, “Andrew………..when I eat Indian curry takeaways baby B. skin turns a light yellow colour”………wow I pulled that deep from within my consciousness!

HOWEVER the breastfeeding lady in question had strict rules, or should I say rule singular, the guy paying for her milk services wasn’t allowed to touch a boob under any circumstances, which seems fair, there’s a fine line between a service and a sexual favour.

So again lady readers if you’re looking for a money-making opportunity, which let’s face it WILL be very profitable, get yourselves a website upload Photographs of yourself seated in a rocking chair, recline back and see what happens…….. you never know 😉 I may even apply!!

A trivia fact for you, a girl and her friend were chatting (I was listening in :/ ) and one says to the other, “men wanna grope your tits but when you let them they don’t know what to do with them!”…………. true?

(Btw you should see some of the photos I’ve happened across on Google tonight, show one of them and the Women’s Institute would frigging lynch me! 😀 )

Andrew 🙂

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Erotica ‘Pretty girl on a train’ (the ending)

( 🙂 A lady blogger asked me why I didn’t have a second blog just for my sexy stories (they’re not for everyone I agree). Hmm good point, a great point but no. So if you’re new to my blog there is no real theme just whatever ‘takes my fancy’ that evening 🙂 family, photography, sexy stories, cookery, sex, nature, Life in Oxford, sex, music anything and everything with humour? One rule, religion! Discussing religion is banned here)

Original story written by ©Andrew (A story for mums dads and adults only, if you’re under 16 believe me it’s boring! 🙂 go play a computer game it’ll be more fun and note this adheres to WP guidelines)tactics-every-guy-must-know-to-kiss-a-girl-07

Continued……………… “Emily I’ve got no condom!! a mixture of shock and distress in my voice!

Emily recoiled back toward the window, releasing her arms from around my neck pushing my shoulders away at the same time, two strangers facing each other less than two feet apart, every sinew and muscle squeezed tight holding my body stiff, she looked into my eyes our waists the only part of our bodies touching, now raising a finger to my lips she said,

“It’s ok Andrew”……”I’m clean and I trust you”, smiling a wicked love in her eyes,

“I never f*ck with a condom anyway, I only take a man if I can feel the skin of his dick inside me”, throwing her head back giggling like a sex starved girl from a single sex boarding school.

Pushing me away still further, so forcibly, my back hit the cubicle door slamming it shut, “God that hurt” I whispered to myself, visions of a trolley dolly listening the other side, witnessing the dirty deed I was gonna inflict on this pretty girl with auburn hair.

Emily reached down grabbed the hem of her tee shirt at her waist pulling it toward the ceiling, the stretchy cotton fabric revealing her large round breasts and yes her nipples were as big as I’d imagined chocolate brown against pale pink skin. One final tug at her hair as she pulled the garment over head, brunette bangs kissing Emilie’s cheeks as they dropped to her shoulders, finally placing it in the sink.

Jesus what vision of a woman, I devoured her bouncing breasts with my eyes until I could gaze no more, then pushing my ass into the door I grabbed hold of her boobs with both hands feeling her hard pointed nipples pressing into my palms.

Continuing to seduce me with her sexy voice now hushed so no one could hear, “you’re gonna screw me in the ass” pulling a tube of lubricant from her pocket with her right hand,  even if she could have seen my face I don’t think my wide open mouth and shocked expression was gonna stop her greasing up!

Emily facing the glazed window, I pulled her jeans down revealing peachy butt cheeks, yet she wore no knickers, ‘well perhaps that ticket collector does have them after all?’ Squeezing the remaining tube contents into the palm of her hand, she demanded one final time, “Andrew you are going to fuck me in my ass” as she reached round dividing her two cheeks, fingers opening her butt hole with one hand, fingers of the other pressing as much lubricant as she could physically force inside. Then all done she went back to gripping the rim the ceramic sink, receptive, ready,

“are you a virgin” I asked

“you ARE joking!” Looking back at me mystified, “I f*cked the ticket collector earlier AND he’s got my knickers AND I got my period” she grumbled!!

‘Jesus is this another dream?’ My bewildered mind caving into reality

“F*CK ME!!” grabbing hold of my hard penis so tight it hurt, oh yes Emily is alive her fingers circling around my purple tip, then releasing her hold, gripping the vibrating sink, I pressed into her asshole sending shivers up my spine as I touched her slippery opening, wincing slightly Emily says,

“Come on, there’s not much time, I want your cum inside me”,

Not a man to be asked twice, her soft ass cheeks divided, my engorged hard-on penetrated Emily’s warm anus, it’s slippery coating taking me deep inside, then I began to f*ck that tight asshole, god how I f*cked her pounding thrusting my groin at her arse in time to the rocking carriage, my penis shaft pulling half out then straight back in, pressing my hardness ever deeper into her rectum, my girth making her hole sting, Emily squeal with every violent stroke.

Out of breath as if I’d just sprinted a mile, I could palpably feel my balls rise, their storks contract as my scrotum tightened, ever faster harder my torso slapped into her ass, back of her hands showing white from gripping the rim so forcibly, her forehead kissing the glazed glass panel, Emily’s stinging anus making her eyes near cry then slowing the force of my stroke stopping to near standstill, I looked to the skies, but all I see is dirty yellow Formica ceiling and calmly saying,

“I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum.”

Emily now looking back lucid and in total control of her senses, understanding the precarious position she’s in, unlike me slowing from near frenzy I held my pause before orgasm as long as I could, not waiting for her answer just holding onto those pleasurable moments surely a gift from God, only a man knows how they feel, spends his whole life craving those seconds.

Then one final remark from Emily pleading “Well f*cking cum then” at the same moment as my groin orgasmed, a convulsion from my hips along the shaft of my lubricated phallus, a near ejaculate explosion between parted ass cheeks, finally pumping semen deep from within my balls into her rectum, me so far inside her now, thick phallus stretching her walls to a limit, Emily near crying tears of pain as I thrust her every last drop of my creamy ejaculate!

Still inside her my brutal violation of her backside subsiding, my breath returning to normal, hands still tight aside her waist, silence was broken by a loud thud on the door, followed my a worried ticket collector’s voice,

“are you ok in there Emily” There’s a girl come running from outside the toilet screaming to her mother!!” Screaming! I said to myself, thank God she hadn’t seen what I’d just done, unaware of what dirty filthy joy me and Emily had consummated and WTF he called her Emily!! 

He asked again,“well are you ok? She’d desperate to use the lavatory!”

Emily coming to her senses as we uncoupled, reaching her hands down searching for her jeans replying to the train guard a tremble in his voice!

“Wait one second we’ve finished!”

“I MEAN I’VE FINISHED!!!”

©Andrew

(I hope you enjoyed 🙂 )

Comment 13/09/2017 – A lady commented elsewhere asking if this tale is true, what about HIV and STD’s! Perhaps I hadn’t made myself clear enough, this is a wholly fictional story and by-the-by, I always wear condoms because of STD’s, pregnancy! 🙂 My message is ALWAYS wear condoms ❀

Erotica. Pretty girl on a train pt2/5

Original in every way, a story written by me ©Andrew (unlike every other post on Blog Andrew my tale is a complete ‘work’ of fiction)

1

Continued from pt1 of 4………………

The lady bloggers I hoped would read my story have done which makes me so happy 🙂 however if you’re one who missed lol, comment and I’ll give you the password. Why have I done this? All of a sudden I became all precious and self important, truth is I enjoyed writing this one and the people I care about liked 🙂 that’s all.

…..my lame reply didn’t seem to matter, awkwardness and silence broken we began to chat about where we lived, occupations that employ us, partner’s, oh yes I managed to slip that one in! Turns out we’re both ‘single’ and in truth I am, but a pretty young lady like Emily is NO WAY single yet she wears no wedding ring, no engagement ring and as you’re too well aware a guy always looks at a girl’s ring fingers!

Warmth flowed between us and friendly conversation is struck up, it’s a given Emily and I liked each other, oh yes I forgot to tell you she’d let slip her name was Emily, a pretty name don’t you think? Hmm, Andrew and Emily has a nice ring to it, where was I, yes she wore no rings, maybe a woman who’s up for extra marital sex removes her band of gold, yet a girl betrothed sometimes leaves her engagement on! Confuses me so, is she single or is she not?

Returning my gaze to her red lips appearing fuller rosier in colour now, hmm that’s odd Emily wore no lipstick! Our shared carriage had been warmed by hot air blowing up from under the seats, the engine working harder pulling this great length of carriage had plumped Emily’s lips, flushed her cheeks a soft shade of pink, our heated intimate carriage space ensuring her feminine sexiness sparked alive, a wicked thought crossed my mind, doesn’t warmth inside a lady’s pelvic region make something else down there blush rosy red, make her catch a breath as she crosses her legs!

Fifteen or so minutes pass into our journey together our conversations became happier and fun, giggles from her at my small talk, takes me a while to relax but once warmed I like to think myself as an amusing guy, a turn of phrase here and there, an anecdote one or two amused her and by now a quarter into our journey we are good friends.

Then Emily did something quite unexpected she ceased talking, looking down at her map sole purpose unfurling the sheet a concentration drawn to most probably how far we’d travelled! Oh shit I said to myself leaning back, elbows still resting on the tables edge, ‘what did I say wrong’, ‘why’s she suddenly lost interest’ my mind went into overdrive ‘has it crossed her mind we’re becoming that little bit too familiar that little over friendly for two complete strangers who’d only just this met’, my heart sank, I wasn’t chatting her up, most definitely not, I’m shit at that anyways, I’m the last man alive to pull birds in a nightclub ambitions to leave the club with a young lady, find ourselves a dark alley where she’ll lean her back against a wall, lift up her dress, pull down her knickers and I’ll penetrate her forgetting my condom, a little worse for wear but still sane enough to withdraw come the time.

I watched her head drop fingers tracing coloured lines denoting roads on her walkers map, with resignation I sighed an ‘Oh well the young lady’s mind’s elsewhere’ oblivious hunched over her fully unfurled paper drawing. Then looking up, sparkling eyes piercing mine catching me watching her jiggling boobs with hard pointing nipples I felt my cheeks burn, didn’t matter though, she smiled moving closer, a hand reaching out, delicate fingers now warm to touch pulling my arm toward her, pressing my fingers into the table making sure they weren’t going anywhere, her head close to mine tips of her long brown hair touching the golden coloured table.

Her lips slightly parted made juicy from wetness of her tongue, so pretty my heart literally melted, then she spoke! Gosh her tone had changed, she’d suddenly transformed to a seductress, soft sexual overtones, a thought flashing across my mind, ‘wow if I’m not wrong this girl is chatting me up’. A radiant face had transformed Emily into a wilder more alive young woman, nipples so large I could trace the outline of her areola beneath thin cotton fabric keeping me hard.

“Andrew”,  breaking our silence eyes wide open and sparkling, “you’ve been looking at my tits from ever since you climbed aboard this carriage”, totally shocked by her intimate and dirty phrasing, yes dirty is the word what lady says tits to a complete stranger she’s never layed eyes on before?

As she spoke finger tips slowly made their way up my arm, onto my shoulder pulling me towards her again, feeling warm breath into my mouth, panting, her heart rate forcing air out more quickly from deep within her lungs, our foreheads now barely touching, my arm in a grip so tight ensuring I wasn’t to be going anywhere.

Then a sweet floral perfume breezed past my nostrils, “Come on answer” she said with a girly giggle, she didn’t care in the slightest so what we’ve only just met “So Andrew tell me why you’ve never stopped all journey”………..”they’re my best asset don’t you think?” Both of us now staring at two mounds beneath her thin cotton tee shirt.

To be continued….

©Andrew

Erotica. Pretty girl on a train pt1 (age 25!)

Please comment if you’ve had enough.

Original story written by ©Andrew only wish (big sigh) this one was true!

151-rockwell-girl-on-bus

English summer’s traditionally begin mid June and end early October, I should qualify with a usually lasts that long! So more often than not our summer days of decent weather lasts longer than people overseas may imagine, of course we don’t get months of hot searing heat radiating from white hot suns, no there’ll be few of those, but interspersed they’ll be many more wet windy and cold winter’s days, for example, days such as in this little tale. If you were riding this railway carriage with myself, a day’s excursion on the North York Moors, you’ll hear no end of well known British weather sayings, may even be one such as this,

“Winter’s come early”, said the young lady sitting on a cushioned seat near opposite me, her abruptness waking me out of my contemplative day dream, “pardon miss”, I replied with a shocked start!

“Winters’s come early”, she repeated pushing her arms and shoulders forward, fondly smiling, making out she was shivering and I’d guess pressing clenched hands deep into her lap. I say guess because a large wooden table fixed to left side of the carriage obscured my view of her waist down.

Such a strange involuntary reaction shivering, I wonder if it really helps one warm chilled frozen stiff muscles?

The young lady continued smiling at me, and don’t you find the timespan for a smile represents how greatly a lady likes you, what she wishes from you in return? Too short and she’s forcing herself to make small talk, too long and she’s really into you or is that soppy old Andrew reading too much into feminine flirtations again, when a lady starts to talk to me I fall in love. Happens a lot, I go all submissive puppy-like instantly wishing wanting needing her.

I returned a smile this time going one step further looking into her eyes, and now I’m inwardly panicking having been caught off guard, nervously I answered with possibly the lamest most awful reply known to man, wait for it!

“Yes but the weather man on the radio said it’ll brighten up by this afternoon”, when really I wanted to say something very different, my eyes glancing below her chin for a spilt second then lower still, returning upwards re capturing her gaze.

Oh yes what I really wanted to say to this pretty girl, not beautiful as in a makeup model straight from Vogue magazine beautiful, no she was very much the pretty girl next door type, lovely delightful appealing with curly long brunette hair resting atop her shoulders, ah recalling the actual question crossing my mind. me now feeling the very end of my dick tingle and twitch, shaft hardening to the point of feeling slightly uncomfortable inside tight jeans! what I really wanted to say was,

‘honey why are you not wearing a bra?’

I hadn’t caught notice of the ladies face or her bosom till a little way into our journey, the train had stopped at Gothland Station I clambered aboard, crossing a grubby green carpeted aisle, my legs touching brushing past her jeans on the way, making mental note she’s wearing walking boots, then plonking myself down on the seat by the window! I hadn’t given the lady a second glance really.

Well that’s untrue, seated I looked across for the briefest of moments, enough to see her head was bowed, I assume concentration etched across her face reading a map (hold that thought), then getting my act together I layed my belongings out on the table, sighed rather loudly then gazed out the window watching the incredible scenery pass before my eyes, only then after a couple of minutes did I turn my head in the direction of my female traveller, only then did I notice that her walkers rain coat was unzipped open exposing two mounds of a rather large breasts, within tight navy blue tee shirt I might add!

So of course my attention’s magnetically drawn to her rather prominent nipples pointing through the soft stretchy cotton, oh yes I noticed those two alright! Walking boots and an outdoor coat all indicate she was a hiker and here’s the payoff just like me, I’m virtually dressed the same without hard nipples.

The train pulls away and slowly rumbles its way through beautiful rain sodden countryside, flat and dark green only spongy heather for vegetation. Now comfortably settled with rucksack on the seat beside me, heritage train book and packed lunch an arms length away in front on the table, we rocked and rolled through a picture perfect beautiful landscape that attracts people from across the globe, yet on cold wintry summer days such as these, a low grey cloud, a persistent deluge of heavy rain meant we were the only two souls in the carriage.

Though hold on a second! Listening to a hushed chatter from what sounded like a young woman also muffled occasional squeals of laughter from a child we were NOT alone, a voice of slightly higher pitch making the number five pop into my mind. A girl of five years old, I guess a mother and daughter were seated at the very far end on a day out like us two strangers.

Anyways the change in weather meant only we four travelled today in a carriage pulled by this gruff throaty diesel engine, 1960’s, preserved for tourists in seek of nostalgia.

We trundled our way through rural Yorkshire me time to time glancing across our shared light coloured oak table, and looking about the rail car the whole interior was a soft golden hew, where was I? Voyeurism, every sixty seconds or so out of the corner of my eye I’d glance across at her breasts again jiggling side to side up and down, they were large enough to notice and certainly enjoyable to watch, bouncing higher when a carriage jumped two connecting rails, and I’d say round enough to know they’re more than a handful when holding one up, though now positioned a good couple of inches above her tummy, made no secret this I’d guess age 25 pretty young lady had boobs on the bigger side.

I thought to myself she should really be wearing a bra because they’re just that little too heavy not to be supported, in a few years when she reaches thirty they’ll drop, sag to not far above her belly button, but they’ll still look adorable parting a resting position well to sides of her chest still looking sexy as older woman’s boobs do, I nearly said to her ‘you’ll only ever get sexy cleavage again by wearing a Wonderbra’, I didn’t!

Anyways as you’ll have deduced by now my attention is drawn to her boobs rather than spectacular scenery, then totally out of the blue she looks up from the map she’s interestedly following and beams me such a sweet smile and saying,

To be continued…………

©Andrew

‘Helen’s Striptease’ an old story ‘polished!’

After two years of ‘writing’ on WordPress some readers may possibly be aware I have no common single theme on Blog Andrew but I’ve always published with one aim and that is if at least one person enjoys reading whether that be photographs, a silly tale or even a cookery lesson then I’m happy and certainly don’t wish for awards and recognition. (As if 😀 )

Further still over the course of those two years I haven’t reblogged a previous Post which some will be thankful for! However for the first time I’m going to re publish a personal favourite in hope that people enjoy, the incident lol happened a good while ago and has been rewritten in part and this time I’ll be more truthful and say, judge me if you will, but this happened…………… anyways it’s my blog and all that so I’ll post again 😀

But beware this tale won’t be to everyone’s taste. ❀ ……….. and the next will be different again.Voyeur 4

voyeur-1rhona_mitra-hollow_man
Google image…….a movie still I think?

‘Where to begin? I’ll set the scene that’s a good place to start…………… One evening a good few years ago I was peeking through my slightly parted bedroom curtains, my body propped up against the window sill gazing out across the fields which lay behind the house opposite, tonight I was watching a truly spectacular thunder and lightening display, this evening I was privileged to witnessing mother nature’s awe inspiring power, raw unbridled magnificent energy, every few minutes I felt my house shake after loud claps of thunder overhead, several minutes further and my eyes would be momentarily blinded by phosphorous white lightening strikes thunderstorms so very specific to English hot summers, then finally tarmac bouncing rain quenching England of all stifling heat and humidity………….. luckily the rain would stay away for a few hours longer!!!




.. below this display of electric lightening and bedroom rocking thunder a bright light suddenly appeared from the third story room window opposite, an angled rooftop window set against grey tiles, and a white luminance so bright it woke me from my magnificent daydream, so what vision did my focusing eyes see?

There standing before me in clear close view was the silhouette of a slim auburn haired middle aged lady standing waist up behind her window sill


. I knew her to speak to as my neighbour across the Street, a lady called Helen (not really), age 45ish attractive in a yummy mummy sort of way, I fancied her of course and she’s happily married to a lovely guy but I wouldn’t say no if she asked, I’ve seen her picking up leaves in the front garden and she’s a handsome figure of a woman, a young looking sexy 45 year old, even after ‘blank’ children she still has a trim figure.

In a state of nerves and shock, my mind trying to process what the f#ck was happening over the road, I quickly ran and rummaged through a draw for my binoculars, God knows how I didn’t break my neck on the laminate flooring, then quick as a flash I regained my position and with hands shaking drew the lenses to my eyes. I can remember clearly the moment Helen’s bright window appeared, crystal clear and pin sharp, a vision so close now I could make out expressions on her face and the room within, my heart pounding catching my breath I propped my elbows on the sill and watched!!!!! I’d seen breasts down blouses before, by chance mind, but now I was a proper voyeur lol.

I’ve seen and chatted to Helen many times before but seeing her tonight was a whole lot different, I assumed this was her spare room but I’ve no idea it being situated above my eye line and set well back behind Street’s view, no one but me could see Helen and she was safe in the knowledge I wouldn’t be watching however I was, all very Hitchcock’s Rear Window! Well tonight for  25 minutes or so she went about her homely duties, mainly carrying bundles of clothes around the room, folding sheets, putting clean washing in draws? Who knows, just understand Helen was busy and I’m excited, both engrossed and fascinated I watched as she’d paused time to time under the apex of this small cramped space, stopping aside the smallish square open window, blind open, visible waist up, me watching….incredible!

Each time Helen paused her domestic routine I could see she was wearing a skin tight yellow tee shirt so visibly figure hugging I made out the profile of her bosom but the height of the window meant I could see no lower. Observing her was enough and I wasn’t masturbating, she looked so lovely against this bright white light, still calm and deep in thought a side of her I’d never witnessed, a lovely lady and I fancied her AND yes I agree with you I was invading her privacy! :/

Well after a few minutes of innocent voyeurism all the more exciting because the female recipient was unaware, she paused again and did something so shocking I remember swallowing hard and the binoculars trembling, Helen suddenly pulled up her shirt from the waist moving her arms skywards stripping off the garment over her head, then she held it up to the light (not window) looked at it then folded and threw to her side, at this point I was totally stunned, gobsmacked, omg I couldn’t believe I was actually watching her undress for the first and only time in my life! Jesus a performance like this only really happens in filthy novels and artistic movies. To say I was amazed is a frigging understatement, my mind was alive, my heart was pounding, the tip of my penis quivering, the lady opposite was wearing only a pretty white bra set against her pink naked body, Helen’s gorgeous and I’m partial to naturel small breasts. 

Seconds later she reached her arms behind her back, unclipped her bra allowing the white straps to glide down her arms before again tossing the undergarment to her side, minutes ago I’d been watching the approaching soon to be thunderstorm peeking through curtains, and by pure glorious coincidence I now see an illuminated nude like painting of the lady opposite near completely naked and all with my binocular lens centred on her perfect small pert breasts, her pink skin and auburn hair. Nothing below mind but I didn’t care, tonight I was a voyeur intimately watching my neighbour Helen undress and in hindsight I’m at a loss as to why I didn’t faint or have a heart attack. Unbelievable! Incredible! Beautiful! OMFG!!!! Voyeurism is wrong but by God forbidden fruit tastes sweet.

Throughout this striptease performance I’d asked myself ‘what’s she looking at her gaze fixed on something across the room?’ She’d been alone, was it a mirror or picture and I could sense Helen’s mind is distracted by something, then she startled me, she stretched an arm straight up in the air and proceeded to move her other hand below the armpit gently smoothing the palm against her skin, methodically caressing in circling motions a picture of concentration etched across her face.

I should I have turned away shouldn’t I? Closed the curtains and gone back to bed! You must be f&%king joking legally it’s my window sill and the view out is mine!

Of course I kept watching.

Helen caressessed squeezed prodded her breasts with two fingers then switching hands she repeated this now obvious checking ritual beneath the other pit of her upwardly stretched arm, all the while her face a picture of serene concentration, she even held both boobs at once as if pointing squirting sprays of milk at a mirror and now I’m sure she’s looking at her reflection in a mirror opposite? Of course by now I’d worked out what she was doing, I was witness to something very private and intimate, she was examining her breasts in a time honoured womanly routine her wistful calmness so beautiful it touched my soul (true), she’d been of course feeling for changes within her breasts, I hope to God there were none and of course tonight I was a very VERY lucky man.

So a question to any ladies reading and judging voyeur Andrew, remember that definition, I ask if you happened to be watching a neighbour strip naked then feel squeeze examine his testicles what would you do? Close the curtains? Go to bed? Or satisfy your voyeuristic appetite? Come on be honest now, no please don’t, but I have my own idea what you’d all do, one or two would be in bed long before now and the rest would have their hand down the front of their knickers doing the things girls do, remember I’m NOT a nasty man.

So how did your late night adventure end Andrew? Well her breast examinations lasted five minutes then all of a sudden something startled her, perhaps a noise from the Street below or a sudden awareness she was in-fact standing naked in her bedroom, lights on, aside an open window because tonight was so damn hot and humid, who knows? But quick as a flash she pulled a forearm across her chest covering her breasts at the same time leaning forward forcibly pulling down the blind shut!!

Performance over I caught my breath, my heart rate lowered as I climbed into bed and most amusingly of all still holding my binoculars, I woke up next morning with them! Then I slept like a baby totally utterly exhausted and btw at no point did I masturbate myself a middle aged man can only take so much excitement in one evening. Have I ever seen her undress again? NO because I never look out of my window unless there’s lightening to watch thunder to hear, in-fact that statement is absolutely true. So consequently I’ve never seen her undress again or honestly attempted to, yes even on humid warm balmy evenings because I know for fact striptease displays, a naked woman, live breast examinations are coincidences that happen once in a guys lifetime.’

So there you are, last time I published this I questioned ‘is my voyeurism a true tale or fiction? Is my incredibly vivid and erotic memory so etched across my mind only a story? I’ll allow the reader to decide’, well the evenings events as written actually happened, judge me she certainly would, fabulous and all very Jimmy Stewart in Hitchcock’s ‘Rear Window’.

Ladies I’ll leave you with one thought, be careful what you are doing late at night in your bedroom because someone might be be watching! 😀

© Andrew

3. A hate crime? Really? You’re kidding me!

🙂 What is the World coming to if you cannot legally stare at a woman’s boobs?

I’d better very quickly qualify that question by saying if you’re going to glance in her direction she must be over age 18 and fully clothed!

So is there any harm looking at her boobs? Enjoying a female’s figure? And at what point does a stare become sexual assault? At what point does noticing appreciating an attractive figure become wrong?

She dresses for male attention, doesn’t she? (Please bare with me!)

Today has possibly been the hottest day this year in the UK, so with sun and ‘fashion’ in mind you may have guessed where this Post is leading :/ Hmm :/

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Anna Friel is looking stunning these days isn’t she and I’m old enough to remember her as the good looking schoolgirl in the long running soap opera ‘Brookside’ or better affectionately known as ‘Brookie’! I’m not a soap fan but you have to say Anna’s still a handsome attractive woman at 40, confident, beautiful, sexy………..  and I see her bra 😉

I might add this picture of Anna’s see-through blouse and visible underwear is selected not just because she’s gorgeous.

Oh yes reasons to be happy! Travelling to work by bus is usually torture, slow traffic, people coughing sneezing in wintertime however today’s journey was notably enjoyable, the sun was shining in fact unbearably hot and consequence many ladies were wearing summer dresses, crop tops, sheer blouses and more worringly female students wearing tight fitting tee shirts, but I wonder at what point does admiring an attractive profile become wrong? Become a crime?

So the bus now full winds it’s way through Country lanes into Oxford where first stop excited students alight at the College only to be replaced by shop assistants going farther into Town , I just couldn’t avert my gaze watching from afar, I didn’t know where to look all these beautiful yes scantily clad women and hold that thought!

Btw what’s with this under garment call the tee shirt bra? My Grandmother would have been horrified with all this underwear on show!! And I’m not joking, she’d tut tut just at the sight of a visible bra strap delicately perched on bare shoulders!

Sheer blouses are my favourite ladies garment, take sophisticated Anna looking so sexy in her pink see through top and wow you can see the out line of her bra, my eye line’s drawn through opaque silk as if by a magnate, I just cannot stop myself looking! So ladies is Anna inciting a crime by wearing clothes so revealing?

Again hold that thought.

Let’s return to my bus journey, I’ll leave the fact a ladies boobs bounce when the bus hits a speed bump in the road too quickly, oh yes us guys are watching and waiting, well I am! Err I’ve gotten distracted! AND I’m going staying well clear of the ‘slut shaming’ debate, you know whether a lady is ‘asking for trouble’ if she dresses overtly sexual, I’ll not go there, except ask the question is admiring the female bosom wrong? Maybe soon!

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Ok OK yes I’ve possibly been sexually over gratuitous with descriptions so far, some verging on misogyny but I’ve written overtly sexual for a reason, don’t judge me too harshly I love ladies whether age 18 or 44, slender or fuller figure!

Sarah’s story

Now I hope after reading my exaggerated wordplay the image pictured across your mind is of a ladies prominent boobs visible through tight clothing, yes? Well as of last week a guy who stares at a bust bosom boobs for tooo long could be guilty of a hate crime. Oh yes. Don’t believe me? Nottinghamshire Constabulary has just announced staring at a ladies breasts can be classed as a hate crime alongside hatred of race, religion, sexual orientation and colour of the skin. Admittedly the Police Commissionaire speaking at her Press conference was more specific, she said suggestive remarks, a wolf whistle would have to accompany a stare in order to bring about a prosecution, however no getting away from the fact overtly looking at boobs is now a hate crime. Really?

Bloody hell I’m gonna be sent to jail now!!!!!

Only joking!

Confused? We in the UK are, the tabloid newspapers have gone apoplectic, wolf whistling builders are angry and the general public is left thinking ‘isn’t Police time better spent catching paedophiles rather than men enjoying a ladies boobage’.

Btw I unashamedly look at breasts through women’s clothing, absolutely guilty as charged! And a prominent nipple will nearly send me into orgasm!

Back to said Press Conference, alongside the Policewoman sat a young lady called Sarah who helped bring about this change in the law, though her case was a little more specific. A good while ago she was standing at a tram stop and this guy on the other side of the tracks was staring at her boobs, she said making her feel uncomfortable, and as they both boarded the tram he commented “nice boobs” then proceeded to stare at hers for the rest of the journey and of course she was terribly upset.

Ok this case maybe a clear cut ‘hate crime’ under the new rules, but every case will be different and varying in severity. The Policewoman basically said a prosecution would definitely have been brought for the remark alone, however I had the impression Sarah was more angry with his stare, was he enjoying her femininity? Or was he a sadist knowingly trying to make her feel uncomfortable, the latter is clearly wrong, but he stared all the same!

So staring at boobs is now a hate crime? Hopefully common sense will be applied but I can’t help thinking, knowing how high sexual abuse is on the political agenda, this Law will be applied rigorously and across the land not just Nottingamshire.

Back to sunny days sitting on the bus and I’ll admit to being guilty as charged when it comes to err boob observation, I glance, I look and maybe out right stare when the lady turns her head, and when I’m walking on the pavement and a lady passes by I’ll maybe take a sideways glance, lingering look, or maybe a brief stare but being honest women don’t seem to be offended and how on earth are Police going to enforce this new hate crime?

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